You'd Every Cause to Doubt Me
by will-you-wont
Summary: When his friend Bingley drags the beautiful and elusive Will Darcy out for his birthday, he expects a quiet meal out of the spotlight and nothing more. But when they end up at an underground cabaret club, the sensual woman on stage well and truly steals his spotlight, amongst other things, and Will's world is about to be rocked. Less naive, more adult P&P. MA - sex, BDSM & swearing
1. Chapter 1

I've often felt that the characters in P&P can often be a little too naive (especially in a modern setting) or a little too immoveable. Lizzie's hatred and Darcy's arrogance for example, but in particular Jane and Charles' malleability and door-mat decisions. Here, especially given the adult setting, I wanted everyone to be a little more wised up, and whilst there's still misunderstandings, mishaps and the usual P&P, there's (I hope!) a lot more positivity and sass... and sex.

I really hope you enjoy- it's my first P&P, and first x-rated story, so please bear with me and of course, review. :)

* * *

They had walked past the doorway twice before finding it. It was simple and unobtrusive; black double doors with elegant gold lettering on the left hand side. They had only noticed it by the tall gas torches by the door's side, flaming brightly in the darkening street. The blonde turned to his dark haired friend.

"Ah, finally, this is the place. Shall we?"

"Are you sure Charles? This place looks… dead."

Charles gave him a smile.

"It'll liven up inside. Plus I thought you'd like dead — part of the reason I chose this was it's still off the radar. You'll be as anonymous as the rest of us mere mortals in here."

With a cheeky grin, he pushed open the doors and they stepped into the hall before them. As the doors slid shut, the hustle of the busy London street behind was smothered, and they stood in silence.

The hallway was dark and long, dimly lit with more gas lamps, and at the end stood gold double doors. They appeared to be no signs of life. Apart from the plush burgundy carpet under their feet, the room was entirely mirrored, each long panel angled discordantly with the next, reflecting the flickering lights over and over. The effect, combined with the sudden hush, was disquieting. The men paused, suddenly uncertain of whether to carry on, or return to the familiar outside street.

"Charles, what on earth is this pla-"

Before Charles' dark haired companion could finish his sentence, a loud whisper came from somewhere behind.

"Welcome, gentlemen…"

Both heads whipped round at the sound, but found only the closed door behind them.

"Welcome to Qandisa."

Again the whisper came, sultry and soft, but from in front of them this time. They both turned back to face the still empty hall.

"Please, come in…"

The whisper was further down the hallway now, and the two men faced each other in silence, one with eyebrows raised, the other's drawn.

"Well," said Charles eventually, his own voice quieter now, "best do as the lady says eh?"

They started down the mirrored hall towards the golden door at the end. As the lights flickered around them, their own movements seemed to flash in every corner, the mirrors playing games as they went. The voice continued as they did, echoing its welcome in a teasing whisper. As they reached the door, Charles heard his friend mutter under his breath-

"Where in God's name am I?"

As soon as the golden doors were pushed open, the sound and sights of the bustling place enveloped them. It exuded mystery — the walls were a deep burgundy, with ornate lanterns and diaphanous drapes hung from the ceilings. People reclined on the floors, men in high end suits talking in deep rumbles and elegant women laughing musically and sipping champagne flutes. The low lighting was exotic, but the abundance of plush velvet cushions made it almost cosy. As the two men entered the club, one sized up the surroundings whilst the other, Charles, approached the impossibly tall woman behind a lectern — the evening's host.

"Welcome to Qandisa, gentlemen. May I have your name?"

The woman's voice was husky and deep. A little too deep, in fact. Charles gave his name before his companion could consider their host's bobbing adam's apple.

"Bingley. Charles Bingley."

He gave the host a smile as she ran a long, manicured finger down the list in front of her. She stopped, and flicked her false lashes back to the young man.

"Ah yes… Charles."

She wrapped her lips around his name, as if savouring it.

"Table two has been reserved for you, Mr Bingley. Best seat in the house… bar some."

She gave an outrageous wink to his dark companion, and smiled wickedly, summoning a waitress from the shadows. Bingley risked a glance to his taciturn friend, who looked uncharacteristically bewildered.

"Vaudeville will show you the way. Enjoy your evening boys."

Both men turned to follow where her long hands pointed. Rather than the expected waitress, there was a petite mime, dressed in a red basque with dark red curls. Her look was completed by a clown's nose. With exaggerated gestures, she asked them to follow her to the table, as Bingley threw a tentative smile at his friend. He was met with a dangerously raised eyebrow. They followed the mime to their seats, which were simple Moroccan pouffes, placed on the floor around a glass table in front of a low dark stage. They both took their seats, cross-legged, and Bingley finally looked around the club excitedly.

"Dare I ask what this place has in store for us tonight, Charles?"

Bingley turned to his friend.

"It's some fun Will. Consider it your belated birthday outing. We both know you didn't do anything on Tuesday except work late and eat late, if you ate anything at all. Though no doubt Giana waited up for you."

He watched as his companion simply frowned a little, uncomfortable with just how accurate he'd been. Charles wasn't fooled. He signalled over their mime, who jaunted over ready to take their order.

"Let's get this party started shall we? It's my friend's birthday, and that means alcohol. Two mojitos and two slammers please my good mime."

The mime threw her hands up in a gesture of excitement, grinning from ear to ear, and walked to shake Will's hand. She then wrote their order in an imagined notepad, and darted off.

"Christ, Bingley. A mojito and a tequila? We only just got here!"

"Well, start as you mean to go on, don't they say? And I mean to get you hammered by the end of tonight. Plus I know you love a mojito, no matter how much of that damned scotch you put away."

"I happen to enjoy that scotch."

"Well, you happen to enjoy my company too, so attempt to look like you do, would you? I know you make millions on that pout, but I don't care for it one bit."

The last comment was rewarded with a twitch of Will's lips; an outright smile as far as Charles was concerned.

"Atta boy. You've been working your arse off recently anyway. So let those lush locks of yours down and have some fun. This place came highly recommended, so I expect great things."

Will nodded slowly at his friend, and watched as Charles' eyes darted about the place, taking in every face in every nook and cranny. Will followed his friends gaze, noting the salaciously dressed staff, and then back to his friend's face. He looked like a puppy dog searching for his master, which could only mean one thing.

"Who exactly recommended this place to you?"

Charles was too busy inventorying the staff to take note of his friend's underlying tone.

"Oh, a friend of a work colleague."

"Really? And where did you meet this friend?"

Charles caught it this time, and turned to see yet another calculated raised eyebrow watching him. He gave a sheepish grin.

"At that incredible do I went to last week. She was helping out with the event, and we got talking."

Will sighed. Corporate events were the worst in the world for hustlers and hang ons. He'd seen it before. Any hired hand looking for a cheap ride could rub elbows with their latest sugar daddy target. Hell, he'd been on the end of it enough times himself to know.

"Charles…" he began, but was cut off before he could even try.

"Darce, don't go there. I can understand where you're coming from and why, you've told me enough times, but she's not some floozy looking for a sweet deal."

"How do you know? You met her for what, an hour or two?"

Charles sighed before replying to Will.

"Well, perhaps I don't know. Perhaps she is. But perhaps taking club recommendations from the woman who organised the amazing work do last week isn't quite the same as proposing to her."

He stared at his friend, waiting for a retort, but instead saw him relent. Charles knew Darcy better than to think the conversation over, but for the moment, they had more important things to do; their drinks had arrived. Charles picked up his tequila, and Will followed suit resignedly.

"Happy Birthday Mr. Darcy. May this year bring you everything you wish for."

At that Darcy smiled.

"Love, laughter and all that shit, eh?"

"Something like that! With some longing along the way, of course..."

They laughed and their glasses met with a clink, before the contents were downed. Their faces grimaced in unison.

"I certainly won't long for any more of those..." replied Darcy, wiping his mouth. "I'd forgotten what that tasted like. Jesus."

"All those parties you go to, and you don't touch tequila? Youth and beauty are wasted on you my friend."

Will chuckled, and the two of them began on their mojitos. Will felt the sweet, sharp liquid glide down his throat, and he murmured in appreciation.

"Wow, that is good."

"Forgotten those too?" Charles smiled at his friend, until something caught his eye in the wings of the stage. "I can already tell this is going to be a great night."

At this, Will watched as his friend got up, taking his mojito with him, and walked determinedly towards the stage. On the right hand side he saw a willowy blonde woman standing in the wings, in a black lacy dress and heels. He could tell she was beautiful, even from where he sat, and the light in Charles's eyes only reiterated the fact. Her dress was tight against her model like body, but it seemed relatively conservative considering the rest of the staff were dressed in a variety of basques or stockings. She seemed happy to see Charles, and he watched as they chatted amiably for a few minutes, before he saw them turn in his direction.

Will wondered if they were talking about him, and tried to nonchalantly take a sip of his drink; when Charles pointed at him however, it was hardly mistakable. The point was followed by a beckon, and Will found himself getting up and walking to join the two hidden in the shadows. As he neared, his friend's eagerness was rolling off him in waves.

"Will, I'd like you to meet Jane. Jane, this is my closest friend, William Darcy."

Will gave a small smile as he shook hands with Jane. She was even taller close up, almost matching Charles's six foot, and she really was classically beautiful with big blue eyes and golden blonde hair. She could have been a model.

"Hi Will, it's nice to meet you. Charles has mentioned you a lot, so it's nice to finally meet you. Happy birthday by the way."

Her eyes held no recognition or admiration, but were open and honest. Even her voice was sweet and serene. He could imagine her and Charles getting on like a house on fire.

"Nice to meet you to… and thanks. You and Charles must have spent the whole of his work do talking, judging by the sound of things."

At this, he glanced meaningfully at his friend, who simply rolled his eyes. The sweet Jane didn't miss a beat however.

"Sadly I had a few more things to do than talk to your friend, lovely as he is." Charles smile grew impossibly wider. "We managed to chat a bit through text in the week though. Talking of things I have to do, I better go and check on the acts. The show's going to start soon, and I should probably be back there, you know, managing things."

She smiled at Will, and then turned to Charles and positively beamed at him before disappearing behind the curtains. Will turned on his friend.

"The show? What show is this? I didn't realise there would be a show."

"Calm Will... it's the whole reason I brought you here."

Darcy knew that his friend was trying to side step things.

"What kind of show…?"

"A bit of everything I think. Circus, dance, burlesque…"

Will snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You brought me to a burlesque show? Please tell me your new girlfriend's not in it."

Charles looked horrified. "Shh, someone will hear you. She's not my girlfriend. And no she's not. She's the manager. She runs this club."

Will looked a little impressed, but still continued unabashed.

"Well I have seen too much shit burlesque in my time to be hopeful. Correction, you have taken me to too much shit burlesque in my time. It's always too large women stuffed in too small corsets, attempting to dance and wiggle their way across stage. It inevitably ends with me suffocating with some hefty, overly mature bosom in my face. "

Charles stared at Will, before bursting into laughter.

"God Will, you do say the funniest things sometimes. To think I'd almost forgotten the look on your face that night. I admit it was a terrible idea, and that woman in particular was god awful, but at least it was a memorable 21st birthday."

"Bingley, you had to pay her to get off me. I almost needed to be given oxygen."

At this, Charles's laughter began anew, and even Darcy began to chuckle.

"It's the last time I take Caroline's advice when it comes to your birthday entertainment. I still think she knew that company was abominable."

"Think? I'm bloody certain of it."

"Well she is a little determined when it comes to you and other women… Come on, let's get another round in and loosen you up. You're at a club that's new and upcoming, where no one knows you, and you're about to watch some sexy women and circus acts. Stop worrying and enjoy yourself. I can guarantee there'll be something here that will keep you entertained."

Charles clapped him on the back, and they made their way back to the table, ordering another round before the show began.


	2. Chapter 2

A big thank you to anyone who reviewed, it means the world, and thanks also to all those who are following. Hopefully I can coerce you into a review soon! Anyway, without further ado, I would like to introduce you to the sisters Bennet. Enjoy!

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"So this mystery man of yours is making an appearance tonight?" she said, entering the dressing room in her usual flurry, as her sister Jane calmly followed behind flicking through an iPad.

"Apparently so. I hope he does."

She dumped her bags on the floor, before untying the belt on her coat and flinging it over the back of a chair.

"And will I get to meet him?"

Jane, as usual, was already dressed and ready, a veritable angel in a dark little dress.

"Remember you're on an hour later tonight, so don't rush. And you know it's rather difficult to meet people when you're on stage, Lizzy."

"True. Well, I suppose I'll get to see him at least. Can you undo me?"

Lizzy kicked off her shoes, and turned, moving her long dark hair away from her shoulders for Jane to reach the back of her dress.

"And he'll definitely see a lot of you."

Lizzy caught her sister's eye, and Jane's mouth twitched up at the corners in a grin. Jane unzipped the dress, and Lizzy shimmied it down over her hips, before flinging it on top of the coat. Jane's eyes widened as she saw her sister.

"That underwear... it's gorgeous! New?"

Lizzy grinned and turned, wiggling her bum at her sister, revealing the design on the back. It was in a deep dark green silk, with linear strips structuring it and showing off a teasing amount of skin.

"Uh huh. I got it yesterday at the Coco shoot. They said I could keep anything I modelled."

Jane rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Alright for some… "

Lizzy turned and grabbed one of the bags she'd brought with her, handing it to Jane.

"Well, I did pick up some stuff for my big bad boss..."

Jane's bright blue eyes lit up like a child's at Christmas.

"You didn't…" she said, already grabbing and rifling through the bag.

"Well only knickers. I couldn't well ask them to give me a bra that wasn't in my size."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Jane hugged her sister, clutching the underwear in her hands. In the Bennet household, lingerie was gold dust.

"Get Charles to thank me later, eh?"

Jane's cheeks stained pink, and still beaming, swatted Lizzy with the knickers.

"You're incorrigible. But how did the shoot go? Sorry I didn't ask, it completely slipped my mind."

"Don't worry, it sounds like you had better things on it," Lizzy winked, and moved to sift through her wardrobe. "It was great. I didn't get to see many of the actual photos, but the ones I did see looked promising. A far cry from the promo shots we do here. But it was good fun, and a hell of an experience. I could definitely get used to being the centre of someone's attention."

"When, dear sister, are you not?"

They both laughed, as Lizzy picked a couple of corsets from the closet.

"Oh, only anytime my ethereal big sis is in the room. I told you that's why we have to keep you backstage."

Jane gave her a chiding look, which she ignored as usual. Lizzy studied the corsets, but ended up placing them back in the wardrobe before continuing her search. .

"Well, I'm glad you had a good time anyway. I can't wait to see the photos. And I hope it gave you some inspiration for our next shoot. Anything Coco can do, we can do better right?"

Jane smiled brightly, and Lizzy returned it. She watched as Jane turned her attention back to her iCal, still grinning. Lizzy could tell her sister was excited about this guy Charles' appearance tonight. She fairly glowed under that calm and collected exterior, and she'd mentioned him at least four times in the past week. For Jane, that was some kind of record. Whilst there had always been guys in Jane's life — after all she did look celestial at all hours of the day — there hadn't been a four-namer in forever. Lizzy was determined for tonight to go well for them both. She'd pull out all the stops.

"Jane…"

"Yes dearest?" Jane looked up from the screen.

"How about giving him a good old Qandisa welcome?" Jane raised a pale blonde eyebrow. "Come on, why have those speakers installed if we only use them at special events. Plus you know how much I love doing it…"

She pouted, fluttering her big dark eyes, a look perfected since she was three years old. Jane shook her head, smiling.

"Only if you stop pulling that face! Oh, go on then. It would be pretty funny to watch. And I guess it is a kind of special occasion — his friend is coming, and it's his birthday."

"Friend...?" Lizzy said, unclasping her bra. "Male of female?"

"…Male."

That decided it - Lizzy picked her favourite corset from the wardrobe, hugged it to her front and turned for Jane's help.

"Better and better!"

Jane began to expertly lace her sister up.

"In fact, you might say very male."

Lizzy looked quickly up at her sister's reflection in the mirror. Jane avoided her gaze, keeping her eyes on Lizzy's stays.

"'Very male'. Well that's… in no way ambiguous. Is he a rugby player? Hirsute? A silverback gorilla?"

"Definitely not!" Jane giggled, but caught Lizzy's questioning gaze. "Lizzy, Charles' best friend is William Darcy."

Lizzy froze, her eyes wide and lips parted.

"William Darcy?"

Jane nodded slowly.

"As in the William Darcy... William 'My-God-like-visage-is-plastered-on-billboards-all -over-the-country-and-I-daresay-beyond' Darcy? The Moody Man of Modelling?"

Jane snorted indelicately at the moniker they'd given the brooding man they'd met only in magazines. "The one and only."

"Well..." Lizzy paused, swallowing drily, the corset suddenly feeling tighter than usual, "that's pressurising."

Jane's forehead crinkled with worry. "Oh Lizzy, I didn't realise you'd feel pressured by his coming. I'm sorry, I guess I didn't think much beyond seeing Charles, and his friend was just an added publicity bonus."

Jane looked so sorrowful that Lizzy couldn't help but turn and embrace her.

"You must really like Charles to call William Darcy 'just an added bonus'..." Jane chuckled quietly. "Stop worrying Jane, it's fine. It's more than fine — it's incredible. The hottest name in modelling is coming to our club. I just needed a moment to take it all in. He's just, well — he's bloody famous. For gods sake we have the Mert and Marcus print of him in our lounge!"

Jane nodded. "He's also stunningly gorgeous..."

Both of them paused, meditating on the very great pleasure that a face of a handsome man could bestow. It took a good minute before they noticed the silence, and they burst into embarrassed giggles.

"Poor Charles doesn't stand a chance," Lizzy muttered.

"Pish. I can admire two men at once can't I? I'm fairly sure William Darcy is the exception to everyone's rule."

"Mmhmm..." Lizzy agreed, rolling her stockings up her legs. "Those cheekbones... And what an arse!"

"I take it this means you've gotten over the uncharacteristic nervousness?"

Lizzy paused thoughtfully for a moment then clipped her suspenders in place.

"Yes. When you look at it, I guess it's just one person who takes their clothes off for a living watching another do the same. I've already seen most of him. It's only fair! Now go be busy, you have a million things to do rather than talk to me. I'll come find you once I've finished and you can give me the nod for welcoming them."

Jane gave her sister a peck on the cheek, and bustled off, her head already filling with singers, circus acts, and perhaps a certain someone. Lizzy heard the door click behind her, and sat down to face the mirror, ready to do her make up. She piled her hair into a bun, but instead of reaching for the blusher, rested her head on her hands. It wasn't often that Elizabeth Bennet had a crisis of confidence. Of course she got nerves just before she stepped on stage, but it was always the excited butterflies of anticipation rather than panic. After all, to do what she did you had to be pretty comfortable with yourself and your abilities, and of course, your appearance. She had always been complimented on her looks, though she was less of a classical beauty than Jane. Her cheekbones were more prominent, her lips more pouted. She always said it was the kind of beauty that had made her grow up quickly.

She picked up the lip liner and began to trace the bow of her lips. Jane had been pretty since the day she was born, but Lizzy had had to blossom into hers. It was after hitting puberty that her accentuated features revealed themselves as sexy, rather than awkward, and she did all she could to encourage this image. After 15 years in Jane's shadow, she seized her newfound power, and that's when she'd found burlesque — or more it had found her. Now the two eldest Bennet sisters were often considered equally as stunning, just in their own, very different,ways.

Lizzy painted her lips in scarlet, and began to work on her eyes. She'd been told that these were the source of all her power. She might have dramatic cheekbones and 'blow job' lips, but her eyes had always been arresting — even from far on stage they sparked and glittered. They could cut and caress in equal measure; those who had experience of either never forgot it.

She took a last look in the mirror and grinned wickedly. Fuck it. She'd been doing burlesque all her life. She'd just been asked to model for Coco de Mer's new range. She and her sister had built this place from nothing, and it was already hot on the underground scene. No one, no matter how knee-tremblingly beautiful they were, could shake that confidence from her, she thought, slipping on her heels. After all, if anyone was going to do the shaking tonight, it was her.

* * *

In case anyone needed a visual of the underwear, I imagined something similar to this but in green - /products/coco-de-mer-siren-half-cup-front-fasteni ng-bra/


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed yet again, especially those who have done so despite disliking the amusement in general! Sorry it's taken so long to do. I rather frustratingly lost my first attempt at this chapter, and had to begin again. However, I'm hoping to make it up to you with a double whammy, with any luck chapter 4 will be up before the weekend ends.

Hope you enjoy- they'll be meeting soon!

* * *

Making her way down the corridor to the find Jane, a wolf whistle stopped Lizzy in her tracks. She swivelled on her stillettos to see Charlotte Lucas emerging from the ladies.

"Very nice! Let me see you." She held Lizzy's hand and twirled her on the spot. "Favourite corset, sexiest lipstick... Someone's hoping to break hearts tonight."

Lizzy smirked and embraced Charlotte in a hug.

"Aren't I always?"

"Well you always do, but whether you mean to or not is debatable. However, that outfit leaves no room for discussion!" Charlotte eyed her, looking for a hint. "…What do you know?"

"It's probably easier to start with what I don't know…" Lizzy waggled her eyebrows insinuatingly. "Have you seen Jane?"

Charlotte frowned. "She's down the hall with TitTat checking over reservations. And don't think I can't see you're trying to steer me off course."

"Well I came this way in the hope of seeing Jane, so technically you steered me off, Miss Lottie."

Lizzy pulled a face at her friend as Charlotte laughed.

"You always were too smart for your own good. Fine, keep your secrets." she said, moving off towards the dressing rooms. "I'll know soon enough."

Lizzy continued on her way, finding Jane and their host TitTat finishing up with the reservations ledger. They made a great picture together — willowy Jane looking timeless in her skin-tight black and TitTat poured into a bright blue floor length gown, two blonde heads together peering at the ledger.

"…So just make sure you put those two on Mary's table. Other than that, you can go wild" Jane finished.

"Sweetie, look at me. You think I haven't already?"

Lizzy snorted as she followed TitTat's gaze down herself. The bright blue dress was covered in diamante, and had a slit so far up the side you could see suspenders. Combined with purple fishnets, the blonde wig and a diamond choker, the outfit was rather loud. TitTat looked over at Lizzy.

"Well thank god someone's here to keep your sister calm. She's acting like a virgin at a prom dance." Jane blushed, as the other two snickered conspiratorially.

"No I'm not!" she huffed.

"You just told me three times in two minutes to put this man of yours on Mary's table! Liz, get her something to take the edge off will you... A big cock ought to do the trick.

For a moment, Lizzy and Jane were stunned into silence.

"What? It always works for me…" TitTat winked, and the sisters exploded in peals of laughter.

"Dear God" Lizzy finally managed, "Tell me why we let you talk to the customers again?"

TitTat's fuchsia pink lips curled up over bright white teeth.

"Because I'm the best there is, darling, and you know it. Anyway, more importantly, what do we think?"

TitTat spun on her dainty heels, a leg most women would die for flashing out of the dress's side.

"You look queenly, darling" replied Lizzy, bowing grandiosely.

"An old queen more like. Well we can't all be born with Bennet genes, you know. Or vaginas. Anyway, I best be off. After all, someone's got to run this place tonight." She gave a pointed glance at Jane. "See you beauties later."

TitTat strutted off to front the house, ledger tucked under her arm. Before Lizzy could comment on what TitTat had said, Jane butted in.

"Charles just texted to sat they'd be here in..." she checked her watch, "five minutes, so you best get to the audio booth if you want to welcome them. Have you seen Charlotte?"

Lizzy smirked at her sister's avoidance; it was a smirk that irritated anyone it was aimed at, but sometimes she just couldn't help it. She pointed down the corridor to the dressing rooms.

"She went that-a-way."

Jane thanked her and made a dignified, if quick, getaway. Lizzy turned and headed on down to the audio booth, gently shaking her head.

Denny and Lizzy sat, gently swaying on the wheelie chairs. So far they'd had no sign of the two men they were looking for, despite them being 15 minutes overdue. Denny blew the air out through his lips as Lizzy stared eagle eyed at the camera.

"Maybe we missed them." Denny suggested.

"I didn't miss them. Trust me."

"How can you be so sure? That camera isn't the best you know, and you're looking for two people you've never seen before."

"Trust me, I know what one of them looks like very well…"

"Ooh! That savours strongly of either disappointment or anticipation..." Denny prodded her in the arm with a pen. "Which one is it?"

Lizzy turned a frown on him, but quickly focused back on the screen. "The latter — but not as you know it, Jim."

Denny laughed at the reference. "You seen the new Star Trek film yet?"

"Not yet. There are so many films out at the moment I want to see and I don't have time for any of them."

"You need to get a social life you know. All work and no play makes Lizzy a dull girl."

"That, Master Denny, depends on who you're playing with... speaking of which!"

She gestured to the screen and Denny rolled his chair over to see. Two figures had slipped in through the front doors, one tall and blonde, the other even taller, with dark curls. They stood taking in the hallway ahead, their faces too far to see clearly in the second camera.

"Better be quick Liz."

"Yep — turn it right up."

Denny flicked the switch beside the monitor, turned up the volume, and a crackle came over the speaker. Lizzy put her lips to the mike just as a voice filled the room.

"Charles, what on earth is this pla-"

"Welcome, gentlemen…"

They both started, turning behind them, following the sound of Lizzy's voice. Now facing the first camera, they afforded her a far better view of themselves. Lizzy all but ignored the blonde as her eyes fixed onto the other monochrome face on her screen. It was him; a most familiar stranger. In the darkness, his features looked more severe, more brooding, if that was possible. His beautiful eyes were large and pitch black, set into marble white skin. His brow was furrowed, and his lips open in question, but Lizzy had never seen him look more striking.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she flicked to the next hallway speaker.

"Welcome to Qandisa."

Lizzy's tones were husky and sensual, filling the hallway below the sound studio, and both men twisted about to find the source. She smiled, watching Denny have to stifle a snort as she switched to speaker three.

"Please, come in…"

This time, the evident bewilderment on their faces got the better of her too, and she quickly flicked off the mike before giggling in her seat. Denny chuckled behind at her amusement.

"God help any man who catches your eye Liz, he wouldn't know what had hit him… You're exactly like that tattoo of yours says."

Lizzy smirked as he gestured to her hip. "The Milton?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Poor bastard won't know where he is."

The exchanged wide smiles, and Lizzy's eyes sparkled as she stood and moved towards the door.

"Well I guess we're lucky no one's caught me yet. I'd hate to have to be gentle!"

Even as she said it, her eyes flickered to the dusky figures on screen approaching the gold doors. Denny caught her line of sight, and his grin widened, but kept his lips sealed as she opened the door. Before her fingers left the handle, William Darcy's muttered words echoed through the studio.

"Where in God's name am I?"


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry it's later than expected- I found this really very hard to write. I have a vision in my head of how this scene should look, but it's hard to describe all the aspects of choreography and music coherently to form a scene. I hope it's okay. I'm not usually a fan of including lyrics or music into fiction, but I felt it necessary to set the mood, so to speak. I've added a quick youtube link to the song when it's needed.

I can only apologise in advance!

* * *

Lizzy was trying to unsuccessfully garner Jane's attention. It was her policy to stay out of the limelight and offstage before her performance, and now that she was dressed and ready to go, she definitely had to stick behind the scenes. Jane, however, was happy to mill in and out of their guests, meeting and greeting and generally being a networking wonder. After all, Jane was the manager and Lizzy was the mystery.

Having left the sound studio, Lizzy had sought out Jane, only to find her standing just a step too far from the safety of the wings. Now, Lizzy was clambering over props and costume changes to get closer, and catch her sister's attention. Stepping gingerly over some of Charlotte's props and into a veritable minefield of circus tricks, she heard Jane's voice mingling with another – a man's baritone. Lizzy looked up from where she stood, and saw a quick flash of blonde hair just out of her eyesight. Whilst not wholly conclusive, the beaming smile on her sister's face confirmed it; Jane had found Charles.

Clearly now not needing to inform Jane of her swain's arrival, Lizzy looked about, deciding the best way to extricate herself and reverse from her current position without being noticed. However, with one stiletto caught in a pile of hula-hoops, and the other balancing precariously between the juggler's skittles, it was proving a little more difficult than she'd hoped. Rather than interrupt their tête-à-tête with the crash and bang of tenpins, Lizzy decided to remain where she was, stuck awkwardly between steps, until Jane and Charles left.

Determined to afford them some privacy, however tempting it was to listen in, she began to hum quietly to stop herself from eavesdropping. However, her ears perked up as Charles mentioned his friend, and suddenly, Lizzy was straining to hear what he was saying, leaning in as much as possible.

"I'm sure Will's going to love it…haven't yet told him what's in store tonight...knowing you Jane, I can't wait…"

Lizzy smiled broadly. Charles was already flattering her darling sister, and they couldn't have been talking for more than two minutes. It showed a promising inclination indeed.

"…I'll bring him over, he's just there."

Lizzy knew who 'he' must be, and her pulse beat faster without her leave. His face flashed in her mind, dark and heady. It irked her a little that she was reacting like a young girl with a teenage crush, but her body thrummed as the introductions were made, and he finally spoke, deep and rich.

"Nice to meet you too…"

Five such inconsequential words had probably never had such an affect on a woman, but from his mouth they shot straight through Lizzy and her nerves prickled. Dear god she was lusting after a voice. Her muscles clenched in all the right places. She was officially ridiculous — and clearly horny. She tried to remember if she'd bought batteries after her last appointment with the rabbit, but the sentence that followed luckily pulled her from her libidinous fog.

"You and Charles must have spent the whole of his work do talking, judging by the sound of things."

That sounded...judgmental? She couldn't tell if it was sardonic or amused, but it held an edge that Lizzy didn't like aimed at her sister. She knew if she'd been with them, she may well have shown Mr. William Darcy the sharp side of her tongue, and she was almost thankful she was stuck in the wings. The last thing she wanted was to cost Jane her date and Qandisa it's clientele. Jane of course expertly handled herself and Darcy, diffusing any hint of sarcasm with ease and friendliness, before disappearing behind the curtains that fronted the wings, bypassing Lizzy altogether. She was left hoping the two men would swiftly return to their table.

Gently lifting her heel from the hoops to find firmer ground behind, she clutched at a spotlight stand to steady herself before attempting the same with the other, more precarious, one. It was a little like playing Operation, she thought to herself, though with a half nude woman and a bizarre array of items. Trying not to laugh at the ridiculous image she must present, she completed the manoeuvre and stood up straight, uncricking her neck and rolling her shoulders back.

"You brought me to a burlesque show?"

Now that, Lizzy couldn't help but noticed, was definite disdain from the Darcy corner. Perhaps the vibrator wasn't going to be necessary after all.

"Please tell me your new girlfriend's not in it."

Lizzy could feel her hackles rising, and could feel a scathing response burning a hole in her throat. Before it got the better of her, she tried determinedly to keep cool and calm. In such cases as these she thought of her WWJD bracelet. Since she was a little girl, each and every time she got short-tempered and fiery, "what would Jane do" had been her mantra. So much so that her father had jokingly bought her a gold WWJD bracelet for her 18th birthday.

In this instance, Jane would be rational and realize that she was rather rudely eavesdropping, and therefore whatever she heard was not meant for her ears. Of course Jane would never be eavesdropping in the first place.

"…you have taken me to too much shit burlesque in my time. It's always too large women stuffed in too small corsets, attempting to dance and wiggle their way across stage. It inevitably ends with me suffocating with some hefty, overly mature bosom in my face."

Her WWJD mantra faded and her temper flared during such an unforgiving speech, but no sooner had it come than it was quickly replaced by an unbelievable urge to laugh. The simply ridiculous sentence was said with such hauteur and disdain, and the image it presented was so whimsical that it proved too farcical for her, and she had to dash from her hiding place before exploding into laughter. It took a good few minutes leaning in the corridor before she finally managed to regain her breath.

With a smile now on her face, she could far better rationalise what the man had said. She tucked an errant curl behind her ear. He was right of course; not about burlesque as a whole, but there were definitely some shit acts out there. She'd seen enough to know them well, and often by name. Good burlesque could both entrance and arouse, spurring on every lascivious little thought in the audience. Bad burlesque could put even the biggest advocate off for life in just one cringe-worthy show. It was no wonder that William Darcy was a little tentative, given the sounds of his experience…

Stifling anew her giggles, she cast her mind to his earlier comments. As for his seeming resistance to Jane, she'd have to wait and see. Jane never failed to charm anyone. In fact, she often charmed people a little too well, men especially. More than once had Lizzy had to break up a fight between two guys knocking heads over Jane. Whilst she hoped it wouldn't come to that (again), she had no doubt that in time, her sister would melt even the moody man of modelling's heart. Not that it mattered if she didn't. Charles was a grown man, surely capable of making his own decisions... Plus she was getting ahead of herself; Jane and Charles weren't even dating — yet.

She sighed to herself. She would have to forgive Mr Darcy this time. Granted, he hadn't made the best first impression, but she had jumped to conclusions about him just as quickly as he had with Jane, so she could hardly blame him. However kind hearted and Jane-like such rationality was though, she couldn't help the little Lizzy voice that piped up in her thoughts — she could forgive, sure, but she didn't have to forget.

A wicked grin crossed her lips and lit a flame in her eyes. It wouldn't hurt to teach him a little lesson would it? She ran her tongue over her teeth, and began to make her way back to the sound studio. Lizzy Bennet was simply going to have to show William Darcy just how good burlesque could really be.

* * *

"Good god" Charles said, as the woman on stage finished her contortionist act, bowing to the crowd. "I'm sure that can't be healthy, for her or anyone watching. I genuinely thought she'd snapped her neck when she hit the stage!"

Darcy was too open mouthed to respond for the moment. Indeed, the contortionist had given everyone quite a scare. She'd bounced in without ceremony, only to seemingly trip on a step and fall on stage. She'd landed with an awkward crash, her body and head hanging at a nauseating angle. A good 20 seconds of silence had Will ready to get up on stage and ring an ambulance. But it was simply phenomenal choreography; just as he and others were starting to whisper words of worry and panic, the music had begun again, and the woman had begun to rise, shuffling jerkily along, her head still hanging at that god-awful attitude.

"I think we need another after that, don't you old man?" Charles smiled at his dumbstruck friend. Will's eyebrows raised, somewhere between impressed and stumped.

"Yes. Alcohol is definitely the only answer to that. Margarita?"

"Aye aye, mon Capitan!"

Their mime came over, seemingly pre-empting their need for spirits, and their empties were quickly replaced with brand new margaritas.

"So, you've got to admit… it's pretty good so far."

Charles was looking at him, an eager smile on his face. He would always try to jostle Will out of this mood or that high dudgeon, and was on the whole successful. Tonight however, he'd outdone himself.

"Yes Charles, I admit, your girl's place is amazing, The atmosphere's perfect, the show is so far so great, and the drinks are" he took a sip and sighed, "the drinks are phenomenal. Tell me why I don't drink again?"

Charles laughed. "Because usually you're not with someone you've known for ten years. Usually it's because you're surrounded by young horny females trying to get in your pants."

Will smiled in agreement. "Ah yes, I'd almost forgotten them. Though it isn't limited to females. The joys of fame and fortune, eh?"

"It's a wonderful life!" They chinked their glasses together in cheers, and the golden liquid soon disappeared down their throats.

"I'm definitely on my way to being completely pissed Charles. Thanks for dragging me out, I've needed this. Work's been an absolute nightmare this week."

"Well that's what you get for trying to do too many things at once. You could just do one job like normal, rather than showing up the rest of us."

Here, their conversation was interrupted, as two extravagant looking cocktails were placed on the table. They looked up questioningly, to see Jane Bennet smiling beatifically down at them.

"I hope you're having a good night gentlemen. I took the liberty of getting Sanders behind the bar to mix you up one of his specials."

Charles was too busy staring at her idiotically to reply, so Will felt the need to step in.

"Thank you, but… what exactly is it?"

He turned the glass in his hand, peering into the blood red liquid.

"It's an hibiscus margarita. I knew you were enjoying the standard ones, so thought you might like to try this. It's not actually on our menu, but we always have the ingredients in for Lizzy, as they're her favourite."

The two men held the glasses up to the light, and saw the deep shadow of a flower lying in the bottom.

"Who's Lizzy?" Will asked.

"My sister."

He watched a smile pass Jane's lips as she said it. It was something he did when talking about his sister, or so he'd been told, and he felt a small and sudden kinship with Charles's new friend.

"Ah of course, you mentioned her before. Is she here tonight, do I— that is to say, do we get to meet her?" asked Charles, finally joining in the conversation, though somewhat inarticulately.

"Yes and imminently, in fact." She smiled wider. "I hope you enjoy the next act boys. You might need those cool drinks afterwards."

She left, but not before brushing her hand along Charles's shoulders. It tingled where she'd touched, and he watched her go longingly. Before Darcy could question Jane's comment, the lights began to dim, and the compère's voice came over the microphone.

"Meine Damen und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs, Ladies and Gentlemen… as some of you may know, we here at Qandisa pride ourselves on our rather high standards. Some of you may come for our fantastic drinks…"

At this point a cheer went up from various tables, lifting brimming glasses to the stage.

"Others may come for our fabulous company…"

Another shout of approval, with the various waiters and staff bowing and curtseying in professed thanks.

"And of course, many come for our phenomenal show…"

This time the applause was louder, and Charles and Will found themselves joining in.

"However, one thing we know we do best, one thing that we know tempts every single one of you back, time and time again, is our next act…"

At this, the room went wild, and Will was beginning to feel as if he wasn't in on a joke.

"Each time she graces our stage is a pleasure, in oh so many ways, but tonight we have something extra special for you lucky Ladies and Gentlemen. Tonight, she will not be giving one performance, but two! Something old — and something new… So please, put your hands together, for our very own international sensation, Evie Qandisa!"

Applause erupted round the club, and Will managed to yell to Charles above the din.

"The club was named after an act? I thought Jane owned it… Charles, are you sure this isn't Jane?"

"I think she might have mentioned that!" his friend replied.

From nowhere, the stage lights went out, plunging the place into darkness, and the applause evaporated. Only a few flickers from the lamps behind their table remained. Will tried to squint through the dark to see the stage, but saw only impregnable black. For a minute, there was utter silence, and without warning, Will's body began to prickle with anticipation.

Suddenly, a small spotlight lit upon the stage. It was a mere pinprick of light in the surrounding darkness, only wide enough to show one thing; a delicate hand with bright red nails, clutching a fruit — a peach. In absolute silence, hand, peach and spotlight moved slowly left, until a pair of perfect red lips also became haloed in the light. In perfect portrait, the lips met the peach, and opened in slow anticipation.

The tension in the hushed room rushed through Will. Not a sound could be heard; every eye in the room was transfixed on those beautiful big lips, outlined in crimson, floating in the darkness. As they wrapped around the fruit, Will held his breath, and felt his stomach clench.

Sparkling white teeth sunk into the peaches skin, and in unison a beat came over the speakers; a simple drumbeat that Will knew immediately, but couldn't name. (see: watch?v=PTFwQP86BRs )

The mouth took its bite, and Will was sure the lips smiled in pleasure as sweet juice dripped from them. It was then the spotlight began to move, imperceptibly at first. As the beat walked on, so did the light, tracing the path of those lucky drops of peach juice — trickling down from lips, to chin to neck. As they coursed down, they joined with small beads of sweat that pricked on the mystery woman's smooth skin. Soon the drips traced over a collarbone, and forged onto the swell of her breast, large and luscious. Will felt a sudden urge to sink his teeth into that creamy skin. He swallowed unconsciously. His throat was dry, but he was unable to tear his eyes from the erotic peep show long enough to find his ruby drink. His balls tightened, and he realised just how turned on he was.

A singers voice now joined the beat, low, gravelled, and the first whispered lyrics did nothing to calm Will's heartbeat.

"You let me violate you…"

He suddenly recognised the song, and knew the tightening that had travelled swiftly to his groin wasn't going to subside any time soon, as another spotlight appeared on the far left of the stage.

"You let me desecrate you…"

The new light showed another hand, this one distinctly male, as it reached out in the darkness towards the woman.

"You let me penetrate you…"

As the songs lyrics built, the hand moved closer, and soon enough connected with her right arm. Caressing it's way upwards, it moved imperceptibly over her skin, towards the dip of her cleavage. One of the fingers traced down between her breasts, following the juice's path, before being brought to the woman's red lips, which she wrapped round the digit.

Never before had something so simple turned him on so much. Watching that disembodied mouth suckle in front of him made his cock jump and harden, and he became very glad of the surrounding dark. Before the mouth on stage relinquished its prize, another spotlight on the right hand side appeared, this one a little larger, showing another arm — another man. It began to move towards her too, the siren in the centre of the stage calling it to her, and he watched in anxious anticipation.

Before it reached her, a fourth light lit up another hand — female — this time from down low, close to a black stiletto heel. The new hand travelled up round the ankle, to the knee, up the leg to reach the top of a stocking and bare white thigh.

"I wanna fuck you like an animal…"

Will's throat closed up as the hand rose higher, moving towards black lace underwear on her hip, as the male hands caressed her hair, her waist.

"I wanna feel you from the inside…"

At this, the female hand stroked across the front of the black lace and down, and Darcy was undone. The salacious lyrics, the darkened room, and that small spotlight — that manicured hand stroking her, stroking right where Darcy longed to, where this temptress's clit would surely be waiting for him, wet and ready and aching for him. He wanted her to beg for his touch.

Other hands appeared, and the spotlights grew, revealing more of her body and it's various tormenters. Will caught glimpses of dark curls of long hair, a corset in red and black lace, closed eyelids and thick lashes; sensual snapshots of the whole. It was orgiastic, and though in the back of his mind he knew it was simply hands walking over a half-dressed woman, Will had never seen anything so unbelievably fucking hot in his life. He was torn between wanting her to be aroused by the onslaught, and jealousy for not being able to claim her as his, and his only. His cock was itching to be stroked, his balls aching for release.

Then just as it started, the hands and spotlights began to retreat, until once more a single light was left. It picked up on the hand, hers, the same one that had started it all off. It was still clutching its precious peach as the song returned to that simple beat. Those same portrait lips, definitely smirking now, bit into the fruit once more, and the last light went out.

* * *

A moment of silence, then applause erupted. As the lights came up to show a now empty stage, Will felt as though he'd been slapped round the face. Never had he lost his cool like that. Never had he had so little control over his own thoughts, urges, and his body. He looked down at his crotch, his erection thankfully subsiding as if doused in cold water.

He felt his cheeks go red, mortified. He had just been entertaining the most intimate and raw thoughts about a woman he didn't even know the name of. A woman he hadn't fully seen! Not only that, he was a model for Christ's sake. He'd spent his life ensuring that being around beautiful, barely dressed women wasn't going to cause him any embarrassment. Now he felt like a teenager again, reliving one of the first shoots he ever did where he had to run off to the toilets, shamefaced, to sort himself out before the other models noticed his issue.

He slowly became aware of his surroundings, like leaving a trance, and turned to see Charles watching him in absolute amusement.

"You alright Darce?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." His voice was husky, and he realized that his mouth was still parched. He grabbed his cocktail and took a healthy swig.

"Sure?" Charles looked far too amused.

"Yes I'm sure. That was just… mesmeric."

"Hmm. I'm not sure mesmeric was the word you were looking for, but I'll let it slide." He watched as his friend seemed to lose focus from the conversation. "Are you sure you're okay Will. You look a bit, well, odd to say the least. Do you want some water?"

Water— yes perhaps it was the alcohol that was messing with his self-control. He wasn't one to drink so much normally. It must be his inebriated state. A little reassured, Will snapped out of his thoughts, and shook his head determinedly.

"No Charles, thank you, I'm sure. I just got a little… entranced, I was slightly shell-shocked when the lights came on. I'm fine. It was just…"

"Will, the word you're looking for is hot. It's absolutely okay to admit that. Not for me maybe…"

"What do you mean not for you?" Will asked, before carrying on "because Jane's here? I'm sure that she wouldn't begrudge you finding that" he gestured at the stage, looking for an appropriate descriptive "…sexy. She did suggest as much when she handed us the drinks."

"True, true, but it's a little more complicated than that."

"Why?"

"Well I do believe, from everything I've been told, that the last act we just saw was Jane's most beloved little sister."

Will simply stared at his friend.

"And you might want to stop catching flies and keep your wits about you, because she's coming back for round two."

The compère came back on stage, fanning himself with a Qandisa flyer.

"Is it me, or did the temperature just go up in here? If that fruit is forbidden, then Miss Evie, drag me straight to hell!"

A whoop went up in the crowd, and Will felt a little put out, sure that the rest of them had in no way seen or felt what he had.

"Well if we've all recovered enough to take another bite of that peach, it's time to move onto a classic from our old catalogue of tricks. So will you please join me in welcoming back Miss Qandisa!"

Will swallowed, not sure if he could survive another round with the so-called Evie Qandisa, but suddenly desperate to see her, whole and real. As the compère trotted off, a stagehand ran on with a chair, placing it near the back of the stage. He skittered off, and suddenly she appeared.

She was still in the same clothes, from what glimpses he'd seen; an intricate red and black corset that hugged every voluptuous curve, pushing her ample chest up and squeezing her tiny waist. Stockings and suspenders were wrapped round her legs, and the small black French knickers were still there, and still very tempting.

Now however, Will could see the rest of her. Dark heavy waves fell down round her face, and over her back. He couldn't see from the front where they stopped, but a few errant strands lay just over her bust line. The full red lips were as luscious as before, bowed and full and pouting, and her cheekbones were shadowed deeply. Her face was unusual, exotic almost — what Will would have called striking. Revealed in full, she was even more beautiful than he'd hoped, but it was her eyes that made his chest pound.

In the act before they had been closed in passion, but now he could fully see them, dark and shimmering, framed by long lashes. Will felt that those eyes could make him do anything. Even now, when they were simply taking in the room, he swore they were laughing at him. She sat on the chair the wrong way round, legs apart, arms laid on it's back — and then those brilliant eyes lighted on him. Startled, Will openly returned her frank and appreciative gaze, and a slow smile crept over her face. He swallowed hard. He wasn't sure what the next act would bring, but with a smile like that, he wasn't sure if he'd been dragged to hell or died and gone to heaven.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry sorry sorry for the late update- once again it proved harder than I expected to get this one written and ended up rewriting it. That and visiting my sister across the country and work got in the way!

I will endeavour to be far quicker in the next one. Thank you SO SO much to everyone that reviewed. I can't tell you how much they make my day when I wake up to find such lovely and supportive messages. Genuinely means the world to me - you all rock.

Thanks again, and as ever, enjoy x

* * *

As her group of faithful stagehands — literally, she realised, grinning — piled into the corridor with her, she grabbed them into a massive hug.

"You guys were amazing! It couldn't have been better. Thank you so much!"

The group laughed at her enthusiasm, and Rob spoke up.

"Are you kidding Lizzy? It's us that should be thanking you! It's not often we get to actually experience the stage. That's the most fun I've had in ages."

"Yeah, even if it involved touching a girl!"

Lizzy snickered along with the others. "Well I appreciate your dedication to the art, John. And may I just say, Rob is a very lucky man..."

"Don't I know it..." Rob replied, eyeing John greedily and smacking his bum.

"No hanky panky in the corridor you two. I've warned you before…" Lizzy swatted them. "Now be off with you lot. After all, don't you have jobs to do or something?"

"I can think of one job I'd like to do..."

"John!"

The stagehands skipped off laughing together, leaving Lizzy to her own thoughts. She was still tingling from the performance. It had been nerve-wracking. Not only was William Darcy watching her, but it was also the most complicated act she'd ever choreographed. Having little to do on stage herself made it more difficult to keep calm and focused. She simply had to stand idly by, eyes closed, and put her trust in the crew to do it right. She'd never considered how she would feel if it went well, but tonight, they had proved themselves. It had gone wonderfully and by the sound of it, the audience had loved it. Lizzy couldn't help but wonder how one audience member in particular had enjoyed it…

However, she currently had no time to indulge such a thought; she went into the toilets and grabbed some wet wipes to get the juice and water off her skin. They'd decided in rehearsals that even a ripe peach didn't produce the amount of juice needed, so she ended up carefully holding a small amount of water in the back of her throat to create the effect. Whilst it looked better, it did mean she was far stickier than she would have liked.

Throwing the wipes in the bin, she turned back to the mirror to check her reflection, then hurried back to the wings for round two. She combed her fingers though her hair, clipped the mini-mike to her corset, and waited. It didn't take long before she sank back into her previous line of thought.

When she had come on stage, peach in hand, she could just make him out in the darkness. A life in clubs had given her pretty good night vision, and she watched as he squinted directly at her without knowing it. She wanted him to enjoy the show more than she would admit — in part because she so admired his own work, and partly due to her own pride. She wanted, needed, to change his mind about her profession. Well, she thought, if the last act hadn't got his attention, this one certainly would. Hearing her name called once more, she took a deep breath, and walked out on cue.

The heat of the spotlights hit her, and she blinked to adjust her eyes in the brightness. She tried desperately to not look at the man in the front row, despite it being the sole thing she wanted to do. Well not the only thing — boy she wanted to do so much more thank look. Perhaps after the show, she, the Darcy print and the rabbit could spend some quality time together… She held back a delicious grin at the thought.

She straddled the chair Kit had left on stage for her, facing the audience, and gazed about the welcoming crowd. It proved a fruitless distraction. He was simply magnetic. She soon surrendered, and turned her eyes to his face. Her pelvic muscles tensed in reaction. Holy fuck he was hot. Stunning. He might even be better face-to-face than in his perfected portraits. His dark hair formed loose curls, but the short sides showed off his angular face. There was light stubble around his defined jaw line, his nose was long and straight, and his eyes, which she had previously thought haunting, were fairly smouldering, straight at her.

Fuck the print. That look could have her coming all weekend. It was already making her wet at the thought. The smile she'd been holding back spread upon her lips. She couldn't wait any longer to begin; the crowd were eager, and so was she. As he held her gaze, she wondered how close she could get to those dark Darcy eyes before the next few minutes were up. It was either all or nothing, and fucking hell did she want it all.

"Thank you everyone for your kind welcome. It means the world to me." She tore her gaze from him to eye the rest of the club. "Now as you may have guessed by my standing here once more, tonight we are having a bit of a celebration. Here at Qandisa, we like to celebrate whatever and whenever possible… it just so happens that for once, we have a good excuse."

The crowd bubbled up, raising glasses in concurrence, and she laughed with them, rising from her seat.

"We tend not to do traditional celebrations here, and tonight is no exception. But whilst we might not have any gifts to give out, doesn't mean there won't be any unwrapping." There were some shouts of approval from a table in the back.

"Just because there are no candles, it doesn't mean I wont still blow…" she elongated the word, and more whoops echoed about. "And because all of us at Qandisa got a little distracted earlier when someone mentioned 'whipping' and 'cream', I'm sad to say there won't be any cake. However, I'm still looking for a good filling..."

She chuckled throatily as the crowd ignited under her teasing. She risked a quick glance at the man in front, but couldn't decipher the look in his eyes. He looked almost angry. She tried not to think on it — she was too far in to back out now, so would simply have to ignore it. If she'd known him a little better, she still might not have recognised the look for the unbridled jealousy that it was. After all, it wasn't often that William Darcy envied anyone or anything.

"So to celebrate, I thought I'd do a little number for you. Some of you old timers might remember this one — it was the first performance I ever did. And everyone remembers their first, right?"

She winked audaciously and wiggled her hips as she turned back to the chair. With her back turned, she missed Darcy's eyes following the sway of her arse. Whilst she was contemplating her next move, he was dangerously close to jumping on stage and carrying her off, caveman style.

"So, without further ado, I dedicate this song to the one and only, Mr Darcy — Happy Birthday Mein Herr."

She watched as her words hit him, and he stared up at her, his face pale. She couldn't help but giggle a little when he turned to glare at his friend, who pointedly avoided his gaze. Charles was, however, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She had no doubt he would pay for passing on such information.

On the front table, Will's breath deserted him. It felt rather like his shirt collar was strangling him. He tried not to let his thoughts leap to the worst-case scenario; perhaps it was a simple dedication to him, one that Charles would suffer for, but no more. But even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't going to be that easy. Whilst he'd been imagining all the things he could do to her, he hadn't thought about what she might do to him. Now there was no escape from whatever she had in mind.

A piano tinkled off stage as the lights dimmed, and she began to sing, sultry and strong.*

"You have to understand the way I am, mein Herr.

A tiger is a tiger, not a lamb, mein Herr.

You'll never turn the vinegar to jam, mein Herr.

So I do, what I do, when I'm through, then I'm through,

And I'm through…" Her eyes alighted directly on Darcy, and she winked. "Toodleloo."

As she warmed to the song, Lizzy began to enjoy herself thoroughly. It had been many years since she'd performed this song, and it was one of her favourites. She raised herself from the chair before stamping her heel onto it, following the dance moves she knew by heart. William Darcy looked like he wasn't sure whether to bolt, or surrender. She reveled in his uncertainty, and was determined to help make his mind up. After all, on stage she was Eve, and no one knew better than Eve how tempt and torment man beyond all reason.

"…I need the open air.  
You're better off without me,  
Mein Herr."

Now bent gently over the chair, she revealed her pert cheeks to the crowd. A devious glance over her shoulder told her that she had William Darcy's attention.

At this very moment, Will was caught between panic, anger and thinking of all the things he could do to her arse. Her skin was delectable, it looked soft and supple and so very tangible. She was close enough that with a slight movement, he could reach out and touch it, squeeze it — but he knew he wouldn't have stopped there.

That smug look over her shoulder was begging to be spanked off. He thought of bending her over his knee right now, and watching his bright red handprints bloom on her arse cheeks as she begged for mercy, or more. His dick began to rise once more, and he tried desperately to remove the image from his mind, to no avail. His only thought was to show her what happened to temptresses who teased him.

Lizzy descended the small steps off the stage, and saw Darcy fidget in her periphery. Rather than head towards him, she walked straight past without a glance, and approached a table of men on the left. His eyes followed her like an eagle's as she neared them, caressing one of the men's shoulders.

"Don't dab your eye, mein Herr,  
Or wonder why, Mein Herr.  
I've always said that I was a rover."

She moved round the room to a group in the back, touching a woman's cheek as she passed. She knew without looking that the entire crowd watched her course, he included. She continued on, coming full circle to a table right of the stage, where she walked her fingers up an older man's chest. Her circuit complete, she came to stand in front of Bingley and Darcy, but only one held her attention.

"You mustn't knit your brow,  
You should have known by now  
You'd every cause to doubt me,  
Mein, Herr."

Will could see every detail on her basque she was so close. He could smell her too — a hint of peaches. His eyes slowly trailed up her form, taking in heels, stockings, suspenders, corset, breasts, neck, utterly perfect lips — and then met her eyes. They were wicked, enticing and all too knowing. She looked at him as if he were prey, and he wanted so much to show her just how wrong she was.

Despite her confidence, Lizzy had to steel herself for what she was about to do. If he took it well, it could be the most phenomenally erotic experience of her life. If he didn't, she could wind up humiliated and on the end of a restraining order. She sidled up and crouched down in front of him, then slowly opened her knees outward. She could see his determination to hold her gaze and not look down, and she almost admired him for showing such gentlemanly restraint. She however, had no such compunction. Falling onto her knees, she straddled him.

It was harder than she'd imagined to concentrate as the insides of her thighs met the backs of his hands that had been placed stoically on his crossed legs. She could smell him, a heavenly scent of clean man and heady spice, and she could make out all the tiny waves in the curls of his almost black hair. She breathed deeply to still her heartbeat.

"The continent of Europe is so wide,  
Mein Herr."

Will's already eager cock strained at him, as desperate as he to touch the lacy black panties and the dream that lay beneath. Her large tits were thrust into his face, and he had never wanted so much to bury his face into her cleavage.

"Not only up and down, but side to side,  
Mein Herr."

Lizzy moved up and down to the words, rhythmic and subtle. She wasn't sure if anyone else in the room could see how she rode the air above his groin; she wasn't even sure if anyone else was left in the room. The only space that existed was between her and him and those dark, dark eyes.

"I couldn't ever cross it if I tried,  
Mein Herr."

Now gazing into the empyrean face of William Darcy, she noticed that his eyes weren't brown as she'd thought, but a deep and impossibly dark blue. He was entirely and truly beautiful.

"So I do…

What I can…

Inch by inch…"

At 'inch', she finally broke eye contact, and looked down to his crotch. With so little space between them, Will didn't know if she could see his erection, but he could see her lick her lips and he swore he could have come right there. She laughingly looked back into his eyes.

"Step by step…"

Lizzy's heart raced as she reached up and caressed his cheek, letting her hand wind it's way into his hair. Will leaned into it, but before he had a chance to enjoy it she yanked his head back hard. Only his pride stopped him from crying out.

"Man by man…"

He heard her words and watched as she lowered her dark head slowly towards his neck. He felt like the victim of a vampiress; with such persuasive powers, perhaps she was. Right now, he was beyond caring. He felt her breath, and then she softly kissed his neck. He heard himself gasp, reveling in that one heavenly touch. She continued to move up, and he wondered what bliss would come next. Rather than bestowing another kiss, she whispered to him, low and husky.

"Whilst some might call my bosom hefty, I do hope it isn't too suffocating or mature for your tastes, Mr. Darcy. I wouldn't want you uncomfortable on your birthday after all, even if my cabaret is shit…"

Lizzy arched a brow, looked into his eyes and saw her arrow had found its target. She turned to the table, downed his hibiscus margarita, and was gone, desperately trying not to laugh giddily at her own success.

Will couldn't tell what happened next; she finished the song, of that he was sure, and he had no doubt it was as erotically charged as the rest of her performance. She probably went off stage to momentous applause, but he didn't notice. Instead he remained open mouth and cross-legged on the floor, wondering which part of his body needed the blood more — his raging hard on or his burning, blushing cheeks.

* * *

*In case you dont know the song, it's from the musical Cabaret, and you can listen to it here performed wonderfully by Liza Minnelli

watch?v=CX-24Zm0bjk


End file.
